Guest Post by David Griffith
In the second of 3 blogs David Griffith continues his description of being a blind West Ham supporter and how a meeting with Trevor Brooking in 2003 and the celebrations of the Playoff Final win in 2005 started to point the way back home.
Gradually my failing eyesight and the challenge of maintaining my career as well as bringing up a family meant that I drifted away from actual football attendance at the Boleyn. I remember sometime in the mid-90s going to Leyton Orient just to see if I could see anything useful in a game. I reasoned that it would be cheaper to experiment there rather than at Upton Park. What I discovered was that in slow midfield build up, I could sometimes see the ball, and the midfield build up at Orient was very slow which certainly helped, but I completely lost sight of the ball whenever the play sped up near the penalty area. I failed to see any of the goals. In the end I started watching not so much the game as the referee, who turned out to be the easiest person to visually track. This was in itself an interesting experience but not relevant to this narrative.
So by 2000 my sight was rapidly disappearing and I had pretty much resigned myself to being a Hammers outcast. However, a number of things started to change my attitude.
The first change was in 2003. I was then a Hospital Manager, ironically managing a Hospital Eye Department. We were about to open a new Eye Treatment Centre at Whipps Cross Hospital in Leytonstone. We needed a dignitary to open the centre and I had no hesitation in nominating my long time West Ham hero, Trevor Brooking. To my delight and some amazement he agreed to perform this task.
The night before the grand opening I quite literally had nightmares. I had a fear that the footballing idol I had worshipped from afar would, in real life, be a person I did not like. In the event the opposite was the case.
Trevor Brooking was not only entirely charming, pleasant and polite he had a level of sharp intelligence in non-football matters which I had not previously fully appreciated. I had written a briefing for him and he skilfully wove details from this briefing into a considered and intelligent speech which pointed out the health benefits of football in general and the particular issues of Eye Health in the East End which the Centre was designed to help.
Whilst on a professional level this was all great, on a personal level it was also a great thing for me. Trevor Brooking besides being a good dignitary was also just a nice bloke. He provided an instant assumption of kinship with fellow West Ham supporters like me, and it was clear that despite all his illustrious career and prestige he was at heart a fan just like the rest of us. This instant assumption of friendliness and support from a fellow Hammer reminded me what a special bunch our supporters can be.
It reminded me forcefully that actually watching a game is only part of the West Ham experience. The ritual and regular emotional consolidation into the West Ham community when we attend the Boleyn is just as important.
This experience was revealed in even sharper focus in 2005 when we met Preston in the Championship Playoff final. I was actually so nervous during the match that I had to in the end go outside to cut the hedge to distract myself and escape the tension of the radio commentary. I relied on my wife telling me the good news at full time.
I was suddenly determined that I was, if not able to attend games, at least was going to join in the celebrations. The next day I got a taxi to Leytonstone tube and somehow managed to use the tube to find my way to Upton Park. This was before the excellent modern assistance service by London Underground was in place. However I knew that if I could get to Upton Park station and turn right out of the exit I should be able to tap my way with my white stick some way down towards the ground.
Green Street that day was understandably very crowded and making my way down was difficult. I eventually felt some steps under my White cane and just decided to sit on them and keep out of the way. I think people were looking at me not quite sure what to make of me. After about 10 minutes I heard somebody walking by trying to sell West Ham flags. I leapt up and called out for him to sell one to me.
The transformation after I bought the flag was instantaneous and amazing. All of a sudden people started coming up to me and talking, even children because they now realised that more importantly than being a blind man standing in the street, I was a West Ham supporter. They alerted me to when the open top bus was to go by, so I was able to join the cheering celebration.
The crowd then surged to follow the bus and it was clear that they were not going to leave me behind. A very friendly young woman took me firmly by the arm and started guiding me after the bus. I started to thank her but she said ‘we are all West Ham here. We look after each other’.
As we assembled to hear Pardew’s speech people started hugging spontaneously in the street. I was basically hugged by friends with a common purpose I had never known and seen before or since. I felt very emotional. Afterwards the West Ham fans around me insisted on guiding me back to the Upton Park Tube Station.
I now realised that supporting West Ham involves a lot more than simply watching games. I felt a yearning ambition to return to my club. This was to be eventually realised when I learnt about the special support West Ham offer to blind and partially sighted supporters. In my final blog I will describe how this service allowed me to return home to my club.
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